


there is no escape (but we'll find a way out together)

by butterflyknifetricks



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Winter Break, a tiny mention of sylvain's very bad no good dad, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyknifetricks/pseuds/butterflyknifetricks
Summary: “Felix, bro, dude, babe, sweet summer child, the fact that you think I know your weird protein shake flavor selections is cute of you.” He walks over, squatting down to where Felix is sitting and pats his head, firmly ignoring how Felix’s gross germs are now probably all over his hands.Felix, finally distracted from the game, looks like he wants to stab Sylvain. Sylvain supposes that’s valid. While he’s glaring, the bone snake — wow that’sa lotof heads — attacks his little character and its health bar goes all the way down. Oops.“Shit.”The screen goes black, the words ‘THERE IS NO ESCAPE’ painted across the screen in red, a kinda gross picture of averydead little red guy in the center. Huh. That must be the game over screen.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 70
Collections: Sylvix Gift Exchange 2020





	there is no escape (but we'll find a way out together)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunaticality](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunaticality/gifts).



> This is my piece for the Sylvix Secret Santa -- my giftee gave me a wonderful prompt about playing Hades, and I hope that you'll find it as fun to read as I found it to write!!
> 
> also, thanks to the wonderful [hellohellothere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellohellothere) for being an amazing beta -- this fic wouldn't be half as good without you!!

Sylvain is losing his mind. 

He loves Felix, really he does, but if he makes them thirty minutes late for game night one more time, Ingrid will _murder_ them. 

“Fe, _please_.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, thoroughly mussing it up. “We’re supposed to be leaving right now, and you’re not even wearing _actual pants_.” 

“One more run.” Felix mumbles, huffing out an impatient breath to blow his sweaty, limp bangs off his forehead. Sylvain has no idea when Felix last took a shower. He’s been in his boxers and one of Sylvain’s old hoodies for going on three days. 

Felix furrows his brow in concentration, furiously pressing an array of buttons on his switch controller, tongue peeking out just slightly from behind his lips. Sylvain feels a surge of fondness, which is no-- bad brain. Felix hasn’t taken a shower in _three days_. 

Sylvain has seen some of the prettiest girls Fodlan has to offer up close and in person (and he _means_ up close and in person), but it’s Felix — Felix in three-day-old sweats, with oily, nasty hair, who hasn’t moved from his spot in front of their TV since winter break started except to eat and sleep — that Felix, that does it for him. He’d feel exasperated if Felix wasn’t also one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

He watches Felix play for a moment, then straightens his cardigan, looks down at his nice pants, and settles onto the couch with a sigh. They’re going to be late. He’s already accepted it. 

———

“ _Felix Hugo Fraldarius_ , we have to go get groceries.” Sylvain’s voice is despairing. They have no food. Bread ends, a half packet of kraft singles, and hot sauce do not food make. 

Felix hums in acknowledgment, clearly not paying attention. Sylvain suppresses the urge to scream. 

“The store will _close_ in the next _half hour_.” He is pleading, right now. _Pleading_. Sylvain is tired of living like a garbage monster. Aren’t they supposed to be adults? He ate five bowls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch instead of actual meals yesterday. 

He doesn’t even _like_ Cinnamon Toast Crunch. 

Felix bites his lip, then jabs the X button viciously. 

“You can’t go without me?” He asks absentmindedly, eyes focused on the red dude -- zag-something? -- fighting a weird-ass bony snake thing on the screen. 

“Felix, bro, dude, babe, sweet summer child, the fact that you think I know your weird protein shake flavor selections is cute of you.” He walks over, squatting down to where Felix is sitting and pats his head, firmly ignoring how Felix’s gross germs are now probably all over his hands. 

Felix, finally distracted from the game, looks like he wants to stab Sylvain. Sylvain supposes that’s valid. While he’s glaring, the bone snake — wow that’s _a lot_ of heads — attacks his little character and its health bar goes all the way down. Oops. 

“Shit.” 

The screen goes black, the words ‘THERE IS NO ESCAPE’ painted across the screen in red, a kinda gross picture of a very dead little red guy in the center. Huh. That must be the game over screen. 

“ _Sylvain_.” Felix hisses, and whoops, looks like he’s in trouble. Sylvain being himself of course, cannot resist poking the not-sleeping-and-very-awake bear. 

“Yes, darling?” He asks, voice as innocent as he can make it. He assumes his most guileless look, big eyes, rapid blinking, pouting mouth. 

Felix looks like he wants to smack him and kiss him in equal measure. Ah, perfect. That’s Sylvain’s favorite look. 

He blinks at Felix guilessesly. Felix pokes him in the chest, attempting to remain mad but visibly failing. 

“You owe me one more run.” Felix’s eyes are dark, the corner of his mouth quirked up slightly, and Sylvain wants nothing more than to kiss him for the next hour — but no. No. 

The groceries. Sylvain needs to make sure they don’t both get scurvy. He’s thinking of vegetables. Beautiful, sexy vegetables and not Felix’s pink, pink mouth, warm and lush and soft— 

Fuck it. 

He places his hands on Felix’s cheeks, dark, greasy hair feathering against the backs of his fingers, and pulls him in. He kisses Felix and it’s soft and warm, chaste before his tongue pushes past the seam of Felix’s lips, the taste of him sweet and spicy and _Felix_. Felix’s hand against his neck feels like a brand, the other curled into Sylvain’s hair, grip tight but gentle. He’s warm and his mouth is soft and he tastes like fucking Cinnamon Toast Crunch. 

Cinnamon Toast Crunch. _The groceries_. Sylvain’s brain comes back online. 

He pulls away, their breath warm against each other’s mouths, lips slick with spit. Sylvain takes a breath to speak, and is immediately stopped by Felix crumpling a hand into his shirt collar and smashing their lips together again, possessive and domineering. His hand presses tight against Sylvain’s collarbone, a hard bruising pressure as Felix licks inside of his mouth. The sensation is hard and fast, with Felix taking Sylvain’s bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a hard bite before letting go, both of their lips red and kiss-bruised. 

Sylvain leans back, dazed, a pleased Felix grinning at him. 

“Hm.” Felix makes an appreciative noise. “So, what was that for?”

Sylvain scowls at him, trying to retain his anger. They are garbage monsters right now. _Garbage monsters_. How dare Felix still be cute and distracting. Sylvain would like to repeat, Felix hasn’t showered in what’s now _five days_. 

“For being an dick.” He says, flicking Felix’s forehead and earning a disgruntled look in response. “We’re going grocery shopping.”

Felix squints at him, then looks at the microwave clock. 

“Didn’t the store close fifteen minutes ago?” 

Sylvain screams. 

———

Sylvain and Felix are not going to die from scurvy. 

Being the amazing and ingenious man he is, Sylvain finally managed to get them to go grocery shopping. It might have been the fastest shopping trip of his life, sure, but that’s not the point. The point is, they ate stir fry yesterday. Stir fry that _wasn’t_ just noodles and soy sauce in a pan. He never thought he’d eat broccoli again. 

Of course, now that he no longer has to actively worry about dying from scurvy, it’s just typical that he has to worry about dying from something _new_. 

Namely, missing his boyfriend. 

His boyfriend — who has finally taken a fucking shower, thank the Goddess — who is sitting in front of the TV and mashing buttons on his switch to play his stupid game and _ignoring_ Sylvain’s suffering. 

Sylvain doesn’t even understand how Felix’s fucking game ends! He dies but the game keeps fucking going? What’s the _point_ if there are infinite lives? 

He doesn’t even know what Felix is _playing_. He’d asked once and all Felix had said was “Hades,” like Sylvain didn’t know Greek mythology or something. Further clarification had resulted in a curt “Google exists” paired with what Sylvain liked to think of as a fond eye roll. He proceeded to not look it up in an act of rebellion. So now he was here. Clueless. 

Not that Sylvain has a vested interest in being clue-full or something. He has proven himself to be horrible at any type of platformer or fighting game in general and has _no_ desire to try a game that seems to center around _constantly dying_. 

He supposes that he has now reached his true state of trophy boyfriend. Not good enough for conversation, only to lie around and look pretty. Woe is him, really. 

Felix kicks him in the shin, then worms his ice cold toes in between Sylvain’s calves. 

“Fuck.” Sylvain says, turning his face from where he was smothering it in the couch upholstery to Felix. “What was that for?” 

Felix doesn’t even look away from the TV. 

“You were thinking something dumb.” Felix chews at the inside of his cheek, pressing a series of buttons rapid fire. The little red dude on the screen lets loose a series of lightning bolts and kills a monster. Sylvain golf claps. Then he registers what Felix said. 

“Excuse me?” He asks, tone vacillating somewhere between offended and confused. 

“You had your ‘overthinking’ face on.” Felix presses another button, and the little red dude slashes down, an iridescent circle reminiscent of an oil slick spreading out beneath him. It stands out amidst the bright color scheme of the game, light glancing off shining shapes, making the black pool shimmer. 

Sylvain kind of wants to sketch it. 

“You weren’t even looking!” He says, outraged. Sylvain squeezes Felix’s foot between his ankles, only loosening up after Felix digs sharp toenails into his calf. “How do you even know what my ‘overthinking face’ looks like?” 

Felix doesn’t miss a beat. 

“I can tell.” He says, deadpan. He hesitates before continuing. “You know, I love you and all that.” He says it with a straight face, but Sylvain can see Felix’s ears redden. 

Said embarrassment would be prime material for Sylvain to tease Felix about, had his own face not been hot enough to fry an egg on. 

Felix is _lethal_ when he wants to be. 

They’ve been dating more than a year and a half now, but Sylvain still hasn’t gotten used to Felix’s brand of sweetness. Grand gestures, gift giving, romantic dates, Sylvain’s got them covered. But the casual vulnerability of saying things just _because_ — yeah. Not so much. 

He glances up at Felix, whose ears are still red but studiously ignored. Felix, who still hasn’t looked up from his game. For once, it’s Sylvain who can’t decide whether to punch or kiss him. 

He chooses a third option — be annoying. He releases Felix’s foot, then flips around, knocking Felix’s arms upward as he nestles his head in Felix’s lap. He can hear Felix grumble unintelligibly above him, but, as Felix doesn’t make him move, he makes himself comfortable. 

Felix drops a furtive kiss atop Sylvain’s head before going back to his game, pointy elbows placed considerately away from Sylvain’s open and very ticklish side.

———

Sylvain comes out of the shower to find that the number of people sitting in front the TV have multiplied. 

Felix, loving and domestic as he is, grunts in greeting, eyes fixed on the screen. Byleth, with a modicum more respect, but also unfortunately holding the controller, nods a hello at Sylvain, and, in doing so, takes a shitton of damage from purple orbs. Byleth turns back around to see the little red guy die his extremely bloody death, and if Sylvain didn’t know better, he’d say that there’s a glint of disappointment in Byleth’s teal eyes. 

“Hmm.” Byleth says, his low voice almost melancholy. He stares blankly at the black and bloody screen, placing the controller on the carpet in front of him. 

Felix tosses his head, the movement loosening the tie holding together his rat’s nest of wet hair. He yawns, scratching his cheek aimlessly, and Sylvain’s eyes narrow in on the mole sitting high on his cheekbone. Felix tips his head back, gold amber eyes finding hazel brown, and gives Sylvain a _look_. 

Sylvain obediently sits down behind him, arms wrapping around his torso and pulling him back against Sylvain’s chest. Felix makes a muted sound of appreciation, scooting the slightest bit backward to get them even closer, then pulling one of Sylvain’s hands to his hair -- a demand rather than a request. 

Sylvain didn’t mind. Any reason to touch Felix’s hair was a good one. 

He pulled the tie out of Felix’s hair, running his fingers through the damp tangled strands. Shifting Felix’s head back slightly, he finger-combed in a part. After, he leisurely works Felix’s hair into sections, checking for tangles, and weaving them into a loose braid. He loops the tie around the end of Felix’s braid twice, then pulls Felix back to his chest, hooking a chin over Felix’s shoulder to see the screen. 

The screen… which has not changed. 

Felix exhales huffily. “You can run again, you know.” 

Byleth’s mouth quirks slightly upward, his tone dusted with a light layer of dryness. “I thought I had only one more run?” 

Felix frowns at him, but is visibly too relaxed to actually fight. 

“You’re better at the fishing minigame.” He says sulkily, eyes closing where his head is tucked into Sylvain’s neck. Then as if realizing his comment could be taken as a _compliment_ , he sits up, backpedaling. “You better get a legendary one.” It takes all of Sylvain’s effort not to laugh. 

Byleth, clearly, is no better, mouth in a pinched line as if trying to hide his spreading grin. He picks up the controller with a noncommittal noise, and promptly starts a new run. 

Sylvain, who is now a body pillow for Felix to nap on, watches Byleth play through about four more runs before Felix semi-awakens and makes grabby hands for the controller. He plays a few more rounds before genuinely falling asleep, most likely having tired himself out with his workout earlier in the day. 

Looking just as put together as he had when he arrived, Byleth begs Sylvain’s leave, citing exhaustion. Said exhaustion is apparent in the slight furrow of his brow, unnoticable except to those like Sylvain, with the honor of being friends with Byleth for over five years. 

Asking whether he needs a ride results in a ten minute monologue about the cats local to his and Jeritza’s shared apartment, with bonus pictures that a half-asleep Felix and fully awake Sylvain coo over, along with the information that Jeritza would be coming over to pick him up. 

(Sylvain thanks his stars that Jeritza is only coming to pick up Byleth.

Jeritza and Felix together are a house on fire. Sylvain still has nightmares of the time they got into a _knife fight_ in the _school cafeteria_.

Sylvain is not letting the two of them even come _near each other_ in his and Felix’s apartment. He wants his safety deposit back, thank you very much.)

Bidding a quick goodbye to Byleth, Sylvain closes the apartment door and lets out a small sigh. Felix is sprawled on the floor, couch throw spread over his frame, controller still tight in his fingers. 

Sylvain gently peels the controller out of Felix’s hands, paying no mind to his muffled and more than half-asleep requests for ‘one more run.’ He switches off the TV, locks the apartment door, and turns off the main light. 

“Felix, babe, right now all you need is to sleep.” He shakes Felix lightly, with minimal success, and ends up dragging a mostly limp Felix upright. Sylvain then guides Felix into their bedroom, where he promptly faceplants into the bed and refuses to move. 

Shoving Felix beneath the covers, Sylvain retreats to the bathroom, performing his eight-step nightly skin care routine and changing into an old, oversized t-shirt. 

He slips into bed and is immediately met with Felix rolling over and smashing his face into Sylvain’s shoulder blade. He makes a disgruntled noise, raising his arm and roughly patting his way up until he hits Sylvain’s face. 

“Sleep.” Felix grumbles, voice thick with sleep. He punctuates the statement with a gentle, by Felix standards, pat to Sylvain’s cheek. 

Sylvain does. 

———

Sylvain watches the little red guy’s ceo of the dead, hades-like-the-god-Hades-but-with-a-scary- ass-beard dad make another snide comment about his son’s work ethic and finds himself getting a little annoyed. Like, first, he had no clue that you could _talk_ to people in the game in like an character-building kinda way, so what the fuck, and second, why would you _want_ to, with that guy around. 

“Wow. The little red guy’s dad is kind of a dick, huh.” Sylvain says from his position slumped over the couch, Felix sitting on the armrest, his feet thrown over Sylvain’s stomach. Felix continues making the little red guy pet Cerberus and studiously ignores said shit dad’s comments. Felix raises an eyebrow. 

“His name is Zagreus.” He says, deadpan. “Also, you just noticed?” Sylvain swats at his ankle, then squeezes it for good measure. 

“No.” His thumb traces circles on the warm skin. “I was just saying.”

“He reminds me of yours.” Felix says, then freezes. So do Sylvain’s fingers. 

He supposes that if this had happened back when he and Felix had just started dating, he might have gotten upset or defensive. They would’ve probably argued about it, the both of them exchanging words they wouldn’t mean, retreating to opposite corners of the apartment to lick their respective wounds. 

Instead, his thumb resumes its movement, circle small and repetitive. He can see the tight line of Felix’s spine, the way Felix’s most likely cursing himself for putting his foot in his mouth, for ‘ruining’ it. As if there was anything to ruin. 

He and Felix, for all their differences, had a tendency to hurt the same. 

Felix loosens up in increments, spine unlocking, shoulders sagging, head tipping sideways onto the back of the couch. He exhales heavily, the action blowing his bangs off his forehead. When he speaks, his voice is quiet. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Sylvain says lightly. “You’re not wrong.” 

“I’m not.” Felix agrees, words tight and firm. “Shouldn’t have brought it up though.”

“It’s fine.” Sylvain repeats, carefully moving Felix’s feet off his stomach and sitting up, placing a gentle kiss to Felix’s neck. Felix’s chin presses against the softness of Sylvain’s cheek in response, the lightest touch of lips and breath to Sylvain’s forehead. 

“Okay.” Felix promptly flops over, full weight dropping onto Sylvain, sending them both careening sideways and squishing Sylvain firmly into the couch cushions. He turns, settling himself, and Sylvain can feel that he’s started playing again. 

“Felix, babe, I need to breathe.” 

Huffing out a long-suffering sigh, Felix moves a solid… inch. 

“Felix.” Sylvain says, voice amused. Felix buries his face in Sylvain’s hair and groans. He rises up, forcibly rotates Sylvain around so his face is no longer shoved into the couch, and falls back down, pulling Sylvain’s arms around his torso for good measure. 

Cuddling it is then. 

Felix starts a new run, swapping the sword out for the bow (which both have epic names that Sylvain cannot remember), and studiously ignoring his definitely red face. 

(Sylvain cannot see past Felix’s head of dark hair, but he’d bet real money that Felix is red as a tomato.) 

Sylvain watches Felix play in silence, the only noise the game’s truly _banger_ soundtrack, and it’s comfortable. He relishes in Felix’s warmth, all loose and relaxed against him. 

After Felix has died about four times, he speaks up. 

“You could play if you wanted.” His voice is quiet, as if to not disturb the quiet atmosphere they’ve created. 

“What?” Sylvain asks. He can _hear_ Felix roll his eyes. 

“You’ve watched me play like, a million times.” Felix says, exasperated. “It must be boring. You _can_ play, you know.” 

“Nah.” Sylvain blows a raspberry against the back of Felix’s neck, getting an aborted yelp and a kick in the shin for his trouble. “Nothing is ever boring with you, sweetheart.” He ends salaciously. Felix kicks him in the shin again. 

“Okay, dumbass.” Felix says, tamping down on the grin threatening to spread across his face. “The invitation still stands.” 

Sylvain responds with another raspberry. Felix carefully places his controller on the floor off to the side of the couch, then proceeds to go for Sylvain’s extremely ticklish sides. They tussle for a bit, kicking and shoving and tickling, until they fall neatly off the couch, laughing uproariously. 

Sylvain tucks his face into the dip of Felix’s shoulder, heart fit to burst. Felix’s laugh is bright and warm, eyes crinkled shut, smile wide and crooked. Sylvain can’t help but love him. 

Felix’s eyes open, bright umber holding Sylvain’s gaze, and Sylvain’s kissing him. It’s off center, more of a press of lips than an actual kiss, the both of them smiling far too much to actually make any headway. Said singular kiss turns into a dozen, every bit of skin Sylvain can reach — the soft skin underneath Felix’s eye, the dimple on his left cheek, the mole high on his cheekbone — with Felix laughing too hard to successfully push him away. 

Felix finally manages it, clamping a hand over Sylvain’s mouth and taking a deep breath, eyes shining. 

“Wait, I gotta, finish my run.” He says, completely straight-faced, reaching for the abandoned switch controller. 

“You can’t be serious.” Sylvain says, voice incredulous. Felix gives him a both knowing and cheeky grin, settling himself into Sylvain’s lap. 

He pecks Sylvain’s cheek. “Just one more.” 

Sylvain drapes himself against Felix’s back and sighs. As payment for the supreme inconvenience, he places his chin on top of Felix’s head, which, while getting an eye roll from said man, is not removed. 

So, with Felix a warm, solid weight on Sylvain’s now half-asleep legs, he watches the little red guy defeat enemy after enemy and die grossly. A lot. 

But, Felix is happy — eyes bright, mouth relaxed, loose-limbed against him — and Sylvain realizes, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he is too. 

———

Sylvain cannot understand why Felix likes his ‘Hades’ game so much. Again, from what he can gather, the point of it _literally_ seems like it's to die. Well… sort of. To die later? To die and complete the story? 

Suffice to say, Sylvain is confused. 

And, well, he’s always been a ‘curiosity killed the cat’ kind of guy. Plus, with Felix having already given him the go-ahead to try said game, the urge to dissect why exactly his boyfriend likes a _video game_ over him -- yeah. He jests. Mostly. 

The point is, he wants to try the game. 

Preferably without Felix gloating at him. Or laughing at him as he epically fails. 

It’s just… reconnaissance. He’s just checking out the competition. Which is a video game. Yeah. 

So, Sylvain, being the extremely sly and sexy motherfucker he is, carries out his plan. Which consists of watching shitty anime on his laptop until 1 am, whereupon Felix turns the switch off, kisses Sylvain goodnight, and tells him not to stay up too late. 

(Felix actually said something more along the lines of ‘ _if you wake up at 2 pm tomorrow and fuck up your sleep schedule, I_ will _laugh at you.’_ Basically the same thing.)

Then, with Felix off in dreamland, Sylvain slips the switch into handheld mode, settles himself on their couch, and opens up Hades. (On his account, obviously. He may hate fighting games, but _Animal Crossing_? That was the _shit_.) 

What? He never said it was a terribly complicated plan. 

Getting past the title screen, and _fuck_ the game has badass graphics, he’s kind of just… thrown into it. He gets to button mash at the little red dude, who has a sword, and he does cool stuff and kills things. 

(Okay, he knows the dude’s name is Zagreus, but he’s come too far to turn back. Zagreus is just the little red dude now.) 

And, it’s fun?

The lore gets dropped in bits and pieces, and with each run, he can gather more resources for benefits to help himself go longer. And, while, as stated before, he’s not one for fighting games, he never said he’s not _competitive_. 

So Sylvain runs it. 

He buys the first four weapons before deciding to just stick to the spear, _hates_ the bomb spider things with a burning passion, dies fighting against Megaera at least seven times, and gives all his nectar to the dog before realizing that, maybe, getting more Keepsakes would be a better idea. After getting scared half out of his wits by the bone snake (which he now knows is called the Lernaean Hydra), and dying horribly quickly, he comes to the realization that he’s been playing Hades for almost four hours. 

As in, Felix, who wakes up at ass-o-clock in the morning, will be up in about thirty minutes. And, normal people, like Sylvain, in about three or four hours. 

He quickly, with a feeling he refuses to describe as reluctance, logs out of the game, turns off the TV, and sets the joycons to dock. The sleep he’d been staving off for the last few hours hits him all at once, and he staggers into the bedroom, feeling only seconds from falling asleep on his feet. 

The room is silent, except for Felix’s silent breaths, his face shoved into his pillow, both an arm and a leg splayed over Sylvain’s soon-to-be-occupied side. Sylvain rinses his face, guiltily skipping the more tedious parts of his routine in favor of not face-planting into the sink, and then tiptoes back into the room. 

He nudges Felix gently to get him to scoot over, then slips into bed, bare feet tangling with Felix’s socked ones. Sylvain startles when Felix blinks himself awake, jerking forward and wrapping an arm around Sylvain’s front. Felix’s pillow has been replaced by Sylvain’s shoulder, cold nose in the dip of his collarbone, breath warm against his sternum. 

“Did you have fun?” Felix says, voice soft and barely audible, hazy with sleep. Sylvain hushes his voice to match. 

“What?” 

“The game--” Felix’s next few words are unintelligible, his body relaxed and loose where it lies on top of Sylvain. “was it fun?” 

“Yeah.” Sylvain says, voice hushed. Felix makes a contented noise and pats his shoulder. 

(He forgot to account for Felix’s uncanny perception when making his plan. It was an oversight.)

“Good,” Felix says. “you w‘re bein’ dumb.” 

“I was, huh.” Sylvain’s voice is only _slightly_ disbelieving. 

Felix doesn’t pull his punches. 

“You w’re.” His voice is firm, but the kiss he places on Sylvain’s collarbone is anything but. “I love you.” 

Sylvain can’t help but echo him, fond, full, and seen. “I love you too.” 

Felix, as if sensing Sylvain’s unnecessary emotions, sighs long-sufferingly. 

“Go to sleep. You’re going to be so annoying tomorrow.” He huffs, closing his eyes, the featherlight touch of his eyelashes brushing over Sylvain’s skin. 

Sylvain kisses the top of Felix’s head and closes his eyes; Felix’s soft, rhythmic breathing gently lulling him to sleep.

———

Sylvain can hear Felix shouting about something from the vicinity of their bedroom, but, as much as he’d like to listen, he’s currently busy. 

Very busy. Almost dying, busy. 

To be specific, he’s getting killed by nasty as fuck chariot-thingies. Zagreus is the son of the _Hades_ , aka the mythological GOD of the DEAD. Sylvain has no clue why he’s losing to a fucking _sleigh on wheels_. 

Felix stomps up behind Sylvain, heavy breathing indicating his displeasure. Sylvain resists the urge to turn around and check if Felix’s face is red. 

“Sylvain.” Felix’s voice is flat. 

It’s not quite flat in the fond (he refuses to admit it, but Sylvain _knows_ ), incredulous way when Sylvain stupidly overestimates his own spice tolerance for the millionth time, but it’s not flat in the Felix’s going to lock himself in their room and blast Taylor Swift’s _Bad Blood_ loud enough for a noise complaint solely because it makes Sylvain want to tear his hair out either. 

Eh. Felix loves him. He’ll be fine. 

Sylvain jabs forward to attack and is promptly murdered, barely saved from the jaws of death by a timely death defiance. 

“Fuck.” He hisses. Felix shifts behind him, and he scrambles through a couple buttons before the beautiful, glorious pause menu fills up the screen. He places the controller down. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“I _was_ asking whether you’d seen a hair tie. I’m out.” Felix’s voice is unamused. Sylvain looks at the three black ties loose around his wrist and laughs sheepishly. 

“My bad.” 

At some point, Felix had settled on the couch behind him. He tips his head back, nape resting against Felix’s knees, and Felix’s hands immediately come up and bury themselves in his hair. Felix’s right hand brushes the bangs off of his sweaty forehead, fingers gentle, eyes bright and warm, even as they stare down at him, eyebrows raised. 

Sylvain slips a hair tie off his wrist, placing it carefully on the couch beside Felix, and hums as Felix strokes through his hair. They remain silent for a moment, caught up in the simple motion, before Felix startles, remembering what he came there for. He makes to stop moving his fingers, but at Sylvain’s whiny noise, continues, stifling an aborted laugh and beginning to speak. 

“Syl, you’ve gotta take a shower.” Felix pauses, nose wrinkling. “I would’ve thought you’d already taken one, to be honest. Annette’s hosting game night, and,” He stops to look at the microwave clock. “we’ve gotta be leaving in like, fifteen minutes.” 

“Hmm.” Sylvain looks up at his earnest face, then back at the TV screen. He straightens up, grabbing the joy-cons. “Sure.” He pauses _just_ the right time for dramatic effect. “Just one more run.” 

Felix’s pleased expression morphs into one of incredulity. 

“What?” He says. Sylvain smiles at him cheekily. 

“ _One more run._ ” He says, pitched lower, in a mocking voice that sounds nothing like Felix whatsoever. 

Felix sputters with outrage, mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. 

“I don’t even, that sounds _nothing_ like--” He stops abruptly, pinching the bridge of his nose and exhaling heavily. 

Sylvain tries hard to stifle his rising glee. 

Based on the look Felix shoots him, he isn’t successful. 

Felix pokes his cheek hard, death glare in full force, even with his vantage point being from upside down. His lips are pressed together and brows arched in a familiar expression that screams ‘I find you hilariously amusing but it would be an affront to my pride as a man to admit it.’ 

“If we’re late, I’m telling Annette it’s your fault and letting her hunt you down for sport.” 

Sylvain laughs, though the idea of Annette’s chirply vengeful smile makes him shudder. 

“Alright, alright, I get you. We have to go soon.” He pauses again, Felix’s scowl daring him to continue, but impulsiveness wins out in the end. The little red dude has monsters to kill, after all. 

“ _Just_ one more run.” 

Felix groans.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! A quick thanks to both my giftee and the server for such a great experience, and I hope y'all enjoyed the fic!!


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